


106. Stuff to Do

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [106]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	106. Stuff to Do

_**Sam and Ryan ([](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/) ): stuff to do** _   
**players only. backdated to August 2nd - Sam's birthday.**

"Up. Get up, love," Ryan urges, stretching out on top of Sam and kissing his neck. "Stuff to do, places to go." He eyes the clock on the bedside table - six a.m. already! - and redoubles his efforts, dragging the bedclothes out from between them. He straddles his lover and grinds down against him. "Come on, get up!"

"What? Why?" Sam mumbles groggily, his eyes barely opening. "Whattimesit?"

"It's, um. Six," Ryan mutters, and quickly tries to distract his lover by kissing down his chest. "I need you up," he insists, sucking Sam's cock into his mouth.

"Why?" Sam mumbles, gasping sharply at the feel of Ryan's mouth on his cock. Christ. Suddenly he's a lot more awake but no less confused about why Ryan's waking him at six fucking a.m.

Pulling off for just a second, Ryan repeats, "Stuff to do." Then he closes his hand around Sam's cock, fisting the base as he bobs his head, determined to overwhelm his lover before he's even fully awake.

 _What stuff?_ Sam wonders, but the words don't reach his lips. Instead, there's another gasp, his hands instinctively burying themselves in Ryan's hair, hips pushing his cock even deeper into Ryan's throat.

Humming around his mouthful, Ryan quickly loses himself in the rhythm. He rubs his tongue against the sensitive underside, teasing before he takes his lover deep again, opening up for Sam to use him.

"Oh, fuck," Sam groans, eyes closing again, but this time he's fully awake, his body responding eagerly, galloping towards the edge.

Lust streaks through Ryan and he rubs his own erection against the edge of the bed. With a growl he scrapes his teeth over the root of Sam's cock.

Sam curses again, overwhelmed with pleasure, then comes with a shout, hips driving upwards, ramming his cock into Ryan's throat with each and every ragged spurt.

Ryan holds himself stiff, letting Sam batter the hell out of him. As his lover starts to ease back he swallows, wiping come from his lips and then licking it from his fingers. Kneeling up on the bed again, he stares down at Sam for the count of five seconds. _Four one-thousand... Five one-thousand._ "Okay, let's go," he urges. "Get up."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," Ryan insists. "Come on, Sam, we've got a busy day ahead of us!" And he's only got thirty more minutes to clear out of the house. He flips the shower taps on hot.

"And you're not going to tell me doing what?" Sam says, getting himself out of bed and into the shower.

"Well, first we're hitting Cafe Mozart's amazing breakfast buffet. I don't know about you," Ryan says, leaning against the door frame and letting his gaze travel hungrily over Sam's naked body, "but I'm starving."

Sam laughs, shaking his head as he runs a bar of soap over his body. "I'm sure I will be by the time we get there," he says, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his other hand.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Ryan leans over the vanity to wash the last streaks of come off his mouth. Then he nervously checks his watch again. He has meticulously planned everything, but Sam is the one element of the plan he can't control.

Sam finishes his shower, dries off, brushes his teeth and runs a hand through his hair and steps into the clothes Ryan's already laid out for him. "You sure they even serve breakfast at this time?" he asks, yawning as he pulls Ryan in close for a kiss.

"Yes. I called and checked." Ryan waits only until Sam's shoes are on his feet, then he grabs his hand and starts dragging him down the stairs. "Get your hat," he says, pocketing his car keys, "and your shades. We'll be gone a while." He pushes his lover out the front door.

"I thought I got to relax during my time off," Sam grumps, but he's only playing. Ryan's excited about something and that's never bad. Well, so far...

Traffic is still light at this hour, rush hour only just kicking in. It's only ten minutes before Ryan is parallel-parking on La Cienega, climbing out of the car to hold the cafe's door open for Sam. He genuinely is hungry.

The moment the smell of the buffet hits his nostrils, Sam's fucking starving. Like he hasn't eaten in weeks. His stomach grumbling. "You'll be lucky if I leave anything for you," he teases his lover.

Ryan just grins and claims a table for them. "A cup of mangosteen green, please," he tells the waiter, then grabs a plate and starts loading it up.

Sam orders orange juice and a cup of coffee, black, and follows Ryan straight to the buffet. "Trying to get a head start on me, are you?" he grins, piling on the bacon. "Smart man."

"I'm going to need my energy. Seeing as it's your birthday, obviously you're going to have to molest me in every unlikely corner of the city," Ryan murmurs.

"Yeah?" Sam's grin widens and his cock twitches.

"Of course. You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" Ryan asks, bumping Sam's shoulder with a grin. "You are now officially my older man."

"For what? Like four months," Sam laughs, struck by the sudden urge - so fucking strong - to kiss Ryan. Right here. Christ. "So, breakfast, molesting... do you have spots picked out or...?"

"Of course," Ryan answers, looking mildly offended that Sam would suggest otherwise. "I have places marked on a map and everything. But I also left room in our schedule for improvisation." He grins and takes his overloaded plate back to their table.

"Glad to hear it," Sam says, going back for two more pieces of bacon before he joins Ryan. Unable to stop grinning now. "I still don't get why I had to get up so early though," he teases. Mostly.

"You'll find out," Ryan says with a secretive smile. He digs into his crepes, layering strawberries and cream, then moans at the first delicious forkful. "I should ask, though -- is there anything in particular you'd like to do today?"

"Nah. I just wanted to spend it with you," Sam says softly, watching Ryan.

Ryan ducks his head, trying to bite back a grin. "Mission accomplished, then." Feeling himself getting dangerously sappy, he reaches across the table and snags a sausage off Sam's plate. "You'll need your strength, too."

"Then stop stealing my sausage," Sam says, laughing and covering his plate with his hands.

Snickering, Ryan backs off and concentrates on his own food. He digs a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, and sure enough, it's a map of the city with Xs scrawled in various spots across it. "I think we should go to the La Brea Tar Pits, those are supposed to be really cool," he begins, pointing at an X. "And I brought our bikes, if you want to hit the Pacific Palisades trail. We can have lunch in the Sepulveda Basin Wildlife Reserve, and -- hey, do you know how to shoot arrows?"

Sam nods, still staring at the map. "I thought you were kidding," he says. "About the map, I mean." Stunned that Ryan's gone to so much trouble, so much thought.

"Me? Hell, no. Okay, so we can skip the archery lessons, I just threw that in there anyway." He crosses the item off his list. "We can chance walking around in Venice, check out the street performers."

"I'm not very good," Sam says quickly, taking a bite of bacon before it goes cold. "I could probably use a refresher. But Venice sounds great too."

"Okay, cool. We can roll with it, see how the day goes," Ryan replies, pouring sugar into his tea. "That storm yesterday burned through most of the humidity, so it's supposed to be gorgeous today." He's really looking forward to just wandering around with Sam with no urgent agenda, simply enjoying his lover's company.

"Speaking of gorgeous..." Sam murmurs, eyes sparkling as he watches Ryan, so fucking in love with every single thing about this man. He grins, a little sheepishly, knowing he's being sappy.

Ryan glances up to meet Sam's gaze, and feels his cheeks flame. "I'll get you a mirror," he whispers, a silly grin of his own in full force.

Sam holds Ryan's gaze for a long minute, too fucking long when it really comes down to it, especially if they're hoping to fool anyone. "Um. So that map has all sorts of Xs. What else were you planning?" he asks.

* * *

"Oh, my god," Ryan breathes, and barely aborts a grab for Sam's hand. "Over here," he says, shouldering through the sparse crowd on the Venice Boardwalk to where a [man is balancing](http://hiddenlosangeles.com/tag/street-performers/) inside a giant steel hoop, slowly spinning around and nearly upside down. "That... is fucking amazing."

"And don't tell me. You want to try it," Sam says with a laugh, watching the guy, seriously impressed.

"God, yeah." Ryan stares, lips parted, brow furrowed in concentration as he watches intently, mapping the man's muscles in his mind. "It's like a Cirque du Soleil act."

"I've never actually seen them," Sam says, shaking his head. Ryan likes to claim Sam's the one who makes him do crazy things but his lover seems pretty keen to do most of the craziest shit all on his own. "Have you?"

"Yeah, they do all this amazing aerial work, up on wires and shit," Ryan explains softly, not wanting to distract from the performance, "and they just use and push their bodies in all sorts of incredible ways." He watches for a moment longer, then shakes his head in wonder. "I've got to find out where I can learn to do that."

"Why? Just to prove you can?" Sam asks, genuinely curious about what drives Ryan that way.

Ryan looks at Sam quizzically, pondering his question. "Yeah, I guess," he says after a moment. "I've never really thought about it. Our bodies are such amazing machines and I just want to know everything I can push mine to do, you know? New challenges, new limits."

Sam nods. "Yeah, I guess so," he says, mulling that over in his mind. "I guess it's the same way I feel about acting."

His attention totally on his lover now, Ryan smiles softly. He's distracted by a sudden burst of applause from the crowd, and joins in, looking back to watch the performer take a quick bow. "You know, with your desire to stretch your dramatic muscles, and me wanting to try any new insane thing with my body... I bet we could come up with a lot more fun roleplay ideas," he teases in a whisper.

"Like interrogations? Inquisitions?" Sam grins, loving the idea. "Remember when we were in London and we took a look at the torture instruments in the Tower?" Now that was a bit much.

"I do recall that," Ryan says slowly, an irrepressible grin peeking out. And he shudders, remembering a few of the specific details. "You know, sometimes a threat is as good as anything," he murmurs with a snicker.

Sam laughs. "Or the creative use of a cheese grater."

With a groan, Ryan turns away, looking for the next show on the boardwalk to catch his attention. "Don't you _like_ my cock?" he teases plaintively. "Don't you want to be nice to it?"

Stepping up behind Ryan, Sam murmurs, mouth _thisclose_ to his ear, "I _love_ your cock. Love it shoved down my throat, up my ass, in my hand... love it when you lose it and come all over me..."

Breath catching, Ryan shivers, as much from Sam's words as from his lips against his ear. Jesus, what Sam does to him. "I'm about to lose it now," he whispers, fisting his hands tight to keep from touching.

"Don't you dare," Sam whispers back. "I want every fucking drop inside me later."

 _Fuck_. Ryan winces, his prick throbbing hard with lust inside his loose shorts. "Christ, Sam," he mutters, feeling himself swell until he knows it's bloody obvious. "You're going to have to start caging me just to take me out." And he needs to invest in much longer t-shirts, he decides, tugging his down in front.

"Sounds like fun," Sam says with a grin, glancing around, happy to see no one's paying them the slightest bit of attention. "So, when you were making these plans, and placing those Xs, did you give any thought to exactly where I'd molest you?"

Ryan eyes him sidelong for a moment before answering. "Actually, there are some changing rooms on the beach," he murmurs, nodding towards the rough shacks dotting the shore. "They might lock."

Sam checks them out and then nods. He can't believe they're doing this. Taking this chance. This risk. Which, of course, only makes it that much hotter. "Yeah, that'll work. You go first and I'll join you in a minute."

The shacks are dim, sunlight streaking through the rough-hewn boards. And 'lock' is kind of a stretch, Ryan thinks, eyeing the flimsy hook on the door. But it's something. He leans against the back wall, reaching into his shorts and stroking himself, already so damn hard that his teeth ache with it.

Sam watches Ryan make his way into one of the shacks and then he turns back to the street performance, counting down from a hundred in his head. Finished, he ambles across the beach, taking one last quick look to make sure no one's watching and slips inside, his grin widening when he sees Ryan with his hand down his shorts, clearly wrapped around his cock. "Uh uh uh," he says, shaking his head, careful to keep his voice soft and low. "Now who said you could do that."

"...The birthday boy?" Ryan hazards, pulling his hand away. He locks eyes with Sam, and licks a drop of precome from his fingertip. _Fuck_ , he's horny, all too aware that he didn't come this morning when he was blowing his lover.

"I don't remember saying anything about you touching yourself," Sam murmurs, eyes sparkling, latching the hook behind him. "In fact, that might just be enough to stop you from getting to come the rest of the day..."

"That'd be a shame," Ryan agrees softly, regretting it already. "Can I plead the irresistible boyfriend defense? I had no control over my actions. He's just too fucking sexy for self-restraint."

Sam grins. "I think that might work this time," he says, knowing damn well he was never going to follow through in the first place. He leans against the door. "Go back to what you were doing," he orders.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan breathes. He pushes his shorts halfway down his thighs, and takes himself in hand once more. His head drops back to rest against the wall as he slowly strokes himself from root to tip, then back again. He shuts his eyes, feeling Sam's hungry gaze on him, and his heart starts to race.

"Don't stop," Sam orders, pulling his phone from his jeans, the camera trained on Ryan. "And don't you dare come." One photo then another taken, his phone making a soft click with each one.

"Oh, shit." The realization that Sam's filming him makes Ryan impossibly harder. He bites his lip and strokes faster, dropping his other hand down to cup his balls.

"Uh-uh," Sam says softly. "Fuck yourself with the other hand," he orders. "Start with two fingers." The camera on video now, every fucking second captured.

 _Start???_ Ryan whimpers and kicks his shorts off. He spreads his thighs and licks his fingers, then reaches back and pushes two into his hole. Working them in and out, he moans softly, lust rushing up and making his head swim.

"So fucking hot," Sam breathes, his cock rigid and aching, straining against his zipper. "Keep going. Fuck that hungry hole. Open it right up."

Swallowing hard, Ryan nods. He pushes a third finger inside and fucks himself a little faster, twisting to rub against his sweet spot. It takes work now to keep beating off, when he's so dangerously close to the edge.

"Spread your legs wider," Sam says, crouching down so he can get a better view, the camera angled just so. Fuck. The sight of Ryan's fingers jammed into his hole makes him groan, his cock throbbing once again.

Ryan does so, slumping against the wall and tilting his hips up for good measure. The welts on his ass - legacy of his reintroduction to the playroom - rub against the wall and he shudders hard, glancing down at Sam. With a whimper, he adds a fourth finger, working it in.

 _Fuck._ It's one of the hottest things Sam's ever seen, made even more so by the run-down little shack they're doing it in, people walking by, talking, oblivious to what's going on so fucking near them. "If you want to come, you'd better start begging," he tells Ryan.

With a groan, Ryan thumps his head back against the wood. "Please," he begs softly, his skin flushing hot with the knowledge that Sam is still getting all of this on camera. He jerks himself harder, his fist closing brutally tight. "Please, Sir, let me come. I'm so fucking close. I can't take it."

Sam shakes his head. "You can do better than that," he says, though really, he's just pushing the hell out of Ryan. "Convince me."

Ryan whines softly, his nails digging into the root of his cock. He rocks his hips, slamming down harder onto his fingers. "Oh god please," he gasps, his skin tingling as he rushes towards climax. "Need it. Fucking need it. Please, Sir! Please let me come for you!"

"Go ahead boy," Sam finally relents, not sure how much longer the video's going to hold out. " _Now,_ " he growls.

In an instant Ryan bucks against the wall, rough wood raw on his bare ass. He spills hot over his fingers, fucking himself through to the last aftershock and biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep every sound inside. His chest heaving, he drags his eyes open to look at his lover. "You."

Sam grins. Fuck. That is so hot. "Yeah?"

His eyes locked on his lover's, Ryan slowly licks his hand clean. "It's your turn," he whispers, and drops to his knees in the sand, tugging at Sam's shorts.

Sam shuts off the video, shoving the phone into his back pocket and lets Ryan have his way with him, his cock so achingly hard he almost comes the moment Ryan's hand brushes against it.

With a growl Ryan sucks the head of Sam's cock into his mouth, deliberately letting his teeth scrape hard over the crown. He slides his hands around to cup Sam's ass cheeks, kneading the muscles as he licks and sucks.

"Oh fuck," Sam gasps, not even trying to hold out. He thrusts hard into Ryan's mouth, driving into his throat once, twice, barely managing a third time before he's coming so fucking violently his vision goes black with it.

Moaning brokenly, Ryan swallows as much as he can, then licks up the stray drops. Then he drops his head to rest against Sam's bare thigh, needing time to simply collect his whirling thoughts, gather his energy again before he can get to his feet. "Thank you, Sir."

Sam smiles. "You're welcome. That was brilliant. Fuck," he shakes his head, still stunned by how incredibly hot it was to watch Ryan like that, to _film_ him. "I love you so much," he whispers, running his hand through Ryan's hair.

Ryan grins up at him, then checks his watch. He pops to his feet and drags his shorts back on. "Stuff to do, let's go."

* * *

By the time they finally arrive back home, Sam is exhausted. Sated and satisfied and feeling rather smug but definitely exhausted. He yawns, locking the front door behind them, and heads straight for the couch where he collapses. "That was a fucking brilliant birthday," he says, smiling up at Ryan and holding out his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ryan links their fingers together and smiles down at his lover adoringly. He'd been so nervous about coming home, worried they hadn't been gone long enough, but so far the house looks pretty much the same as they left it. It smells a little different, though, and he wonders if Sam even noticed, or if he himself only noticed because he'd been wondering. A faint scent of fresh plaster floats on the air, stronger by the stairs. "Come upstairs," he urges, trying to sound casual. Normal. "I'll scrub your back in the shower."

"Do I have to?" Sam asks, laughing as he drags himself to his feet. "I think I could pretty happily sleep down here."

"With that huge bed waiting for us? Really?" Ryan turns and leads his lover up the stairs. "You know, you never asked for your birthday present," he points out, making his way in the darkness down the hall and then flicking on the lights in their bedroom.

"I thought I already got it," Sam says, pulling his phone from his pocket and winking at Ryan.

"Oh. Yeah." Ryan feels his cheeks heat with memory, and blood pulses faintly in his cock. To his amazement, after the day they've had... "Come take a bath with me," he says softly, taking both of Sam's hands in his and walking backwards into the master bathroom.

The contractors he hired on the sly did a good job, he's pleased to see. They even cleaned up after themselves like they were supposed to, no incriminating dust or chips littering the carpet. Ryan sucks in a breath and flips the light switch on the bathroom wall, revealing their newly-renovated bathroom, with its centerpiece of a huge [ oval marble tub ](http://www.treasuresdeoldmexico.com/grazia.htm#Onyx_Bathtub), more than generous enough for two.

It takes a moment for Sam to register what he's seeing but when he does, his jaw drops. Literally. "Oh my god..." His eyes going from the tub to Ryan and back again, realization slowly dawning. " _This_ is why we needed to get out of the house..."

"Yeah," Ryan says softly, his mouth twisting in a smile. The thrill of a well-executed surprise rushes through him, and he steps closer to slip his arms around Sam's waist. "Happy birthday, love," he murmurs, lips against his lover's jaw.

"Thank you," Sam whispers, leaning into the embrace. "There's only one thing that gets me though."

Easing back Ryan studies his lover's face. "What's that?"

Sam smiles. "What the hell am I gonna do to top this for your birthday?"

Ryan snorts a laugh. "You're gonna top _me_ ," he tells Sam. "And it'll be everything I want."

Sam grins. Sliding his hand up into the back of Ryan's hair and pulling him in for a long, hard kiss. "Are we taking a bath?" he murmurs, finally drawing back.

"If you're not too tired," Ryan answers, and gestures towards the tub. "It's part of my ongoing campaign to pamper the hell out of you."

"I think I can stay awake long enough for this," Sam says, peeling his t-shirt over his head. Especially after Ryan went to all this trouble.

Ryan grins, thrilled as ever with watching Sam undress. After a long moment he manages to tear his eyes away and start the bath running. He pours in half a bottle of bath oil, scents of sandalwood and musk rising on tendrils of steam. "I don't know why _you're_ tired, anyway," he teases, peeling out of his own clothing. "I'm the one who sweated in front of the camera today."

Sam laughs. "That's true," he agrees, grinning widely, more than a little pleased with himself. "I want video of me fisting you and then we should sit down and go through everything."

A shiver of excitement flares through Ryan. "We need to get a good digital video camera," he says. "I mean, if we're really going to step up our game, then we can't just rely on our cell phones anymore." He links his fingers with Sam's and steps into the tub. He hisses softly at the way the hot water stings the welts on his back and ass.

Sam nods, amazed by how much space there is in the tub even after they sit down, facing each other. "This is incredible," he says before returning to the other thread of conversation. "You want do some research and get us one?"

"Get us... what?" Ryan is already distracted. He pulls Sam's foot into his lap and rubs his thumbs over the sole, firmly enough that he doesn't tickle. "Oh, a camera," he realizes, and rolls his eyes at himself. "Oh." He swallows hard, a flush rising on his cheeks. No purchase is ever innocent, anymore. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

Sam grins, groaning softly as Ryan massages his foot. "Where did you find this?" he asks. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen a tub this big."

"Mr. Google knows everything," Ryan murmurs with a smile. "It came from Houston, believe it or not. Land of Decadence." He relaxes, watching Sam's face as he continues the slow foot rub. Maybe next time they'll do this by candlelight or something.

Sam chuckles, the sound shifting into another soft groan. "Fuck, that feels good," he murmurs, surprised to find his cock responding eagerly, slowly filling _again_.

"Yeah? Good." It's not the first time Ryan has wondered at himself, puzzled by the overwhelming urge he has to nurture Sam. Care for him, when Sam's perfectly capable of doing so himself. Still musing, he gently wiggles each of Sam's toes, then picks up his other foot.

"Tired?" Sam asks, wondering at how quiet Ryan's being. Whether he should be reining in his growing urge to fuck his lover, his boy.

"Hmm?" Ryan's lips curve and he shakes his head. "Never." He chuckles. "Just... contemplating." His grin widens as he smooths his hands up Sam's calf, stroking over the muscles. "Maybe we just shouldn't leave home anymore, ever. Just lock ourselves inside and play until we starve."

Sam laughs. "I like that idea except for the starving bit," he says. "Surely we could arrange some food deliveries?"

"Well, our deaths will be a lot less dramatic that way," Ryan points out, trying not to grin. He pushes Sam's legs apart and kneels up between his lover's thighs, brushing a kiss over his lips. "But if you insist."

"I can't believe you can move around this much," Sam says, clearly delighted by his birthday present. "This is so fucking cool."

"Yeah, it's practically a swimming pool." Ryan slips his hands over Sam's hips, water sluicing over his shoulders. He licks his lips and whispers, "Do you want me?"

"You have to ask?" Sam whispers, hands going to Ryan's hips, pulling him closer, letting him _feel_ how hard he already is. "I want you so fucking badly."

Ryan bites back a groan and closes his hand around Sam's cock. His strokes are slow and firm, as much to feed his own arousal as his lover's. He licks at Sam's neck and teases until he can't take it anymore, shifting to straddle him and take him inside.

Sam groans roughly, the sound from deep down in his chest. "This is like in Tenerife, only with better traction," he murmurs with a soft laugh.

"No losing our swim trunks this time," Ryan agrees with a chuckle. He tips his head back and slides down Sam's cock until he's sitting in his lover's lap, Sam's full throbbing length inside him. With a soft moan he starts to slowly rock his hips, the water lapping at his skin and his hands smoothing over Sam's shoulders.

"You feel so good," Sam murmurs, sliding his hands around to Ryan's thighs, thumbs stroking up the insides, behind his cock and balls, pressing firmly at that spot from outside.

Ryan whimpers at the hard spike of pleasure, suddenly so intense. He clenches around Sam's cock, muscles moving rhythmically. Shuts his eyes and simply feels.

"Beautiful." Sam slides one thumb back further, touching where they're joined, stroking over that soft stretched skin, his other thumb still rubbing over that bundle of nerves.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Ryan reaches back to meet Sam's hand. He guides his lover, jerking with pain and pleasure when he pushes Sam's thumb into his body alongside his cock.

Sam's breath catches hard at that, his cock throbbing roughly inside Ryan. "Now that we're home I'll have to do what I promised," he whispers, fucking that thumb into Ryan's hole, the rhythm matched with that of his cock. "Jerk off inside you."

Ryan whimpers, his nails digging into Sam's shoulders. "Yes, Sir," he gasps, rocking faster. _Fuck_. "Oh please, Sir," he begs, suddenly so close to the edge that he's desperate. "Please!"

Sam nods. "Come for me, boy," he orders, driving both cock and thumb as deep as he can get them.

His back arching, Ryan cries out. His body quakes and he feels like he's been stretched to his limit, although he knows that's nowhere near the truth. "Sir! God!" he whimpers, cuddling in against his lover's body in the aftermath.

Sam follows Ryan over in an instant, his cock pulsing hotly inside his lover's body. He pulls his thumb free and wraps his arms around Ryan, pulling him in closer, as close as they can get, mouth on his shoulder, his throat, the curve of his jaw, brushing soft kisses everywhere he can reach.

It's perfect. The weight of the water is warm and languorous, an invitation to linger. Ryan rests his head on Sam's shoulder and just lets himself drift, still clinging.

"Are we planning on doing the prune thing before we get out?" Sam murmurs, smiling, quite enjoying himself.

Rubbing his cheek against Sam's shoulder, Ryan sighs heavily. "I suppose the water will get cold eventually," he says and disentangles himself, pushing to his feet. He grabs a large bathsheet and wraps it around his waist, then holds another out for Sam.

"I wasn't trying to rush you," Sam says with a smile, wrapping the towel around his hips. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather turn into a prune with."

"There you go, getting all romantic again," Ryan teases, trying to cover up for the way Sam makes him feel all gooey inside. "Take me to bed."

"Yes, sir," Sam murmurs, pushing Ryan through to their bedroom, kissing him between steps.  



End file.
